Three Little Words
by vanessalengies
Summary: Three little words. That’s all it took to break Peyton Sawyer. Three little words. I hate you. Post 5.17 One-shot


**So the end of 5.17 really pissed me off. Lucas is a dumbass and now I am really mad at him. **

Three little words. That's all it took to break Peyton Sawyer. Three little words. _I hate you._

This was something she hadn't expected. She was having a great day. Mia had been so successful, Haley and her were doing good work with her album, and then, just like that, all hope was shattered. She found him passed out at the bar and just had the overwhelming feeling to help him. He had saved her so many times over the years, she figured she owed him one. In all honesty, she didn't mind dragging his drunk self home, she would do this for the rest of her life if it meant just _being_ with him.

She set him down on the bed and he seemed to be sleeping. She kissed his head and started to leave when she hears him whisper her name.

"Peyton…"

She immediately spins around and looks at him. She's expecting a thank you maybe, and she's not so secretly hoping he'll tell her that he loves her. But then he takes her heart and throws it down the stairs, breaking it into a million pieces.

"I _hate _you."

She can't breathe. She can't move. She doesn't believe this. How can Lucas Scott, the boy she has loved for over 5 years tell her that he _hates_ her? Tears spring to her eyes, and her head is just screaming for her to run, but her heart is seeping blood out slowly through a hole that has just been made, and it _hurts._

She scrambles out of his house and runs to her car as fast as she can, blinded by her tears. She starts her car, and even though she knows that its probably not safe to drive in this condition, she doesn't care. She has to get away. She has to get away from _him. _She speeds off and tries to keep her breathing steady as she drives home. Her heart is aching, this pain is too much to bare, she wants it to stop. When she gets home she sees that Brooke isn't home, she wasn't expecting her to be, thank God for Angie's surgery, she'll have the house to herself. She gets out of her car and stumbles inside and shuts the door. She slides down against the door after she shuts it and starts crying, deep heavy sobs that shake your whole body and make you feel like your heart will explode as you keep going. She hasn't cried this hard in a while, probably since the last time he _broke___her.

She realizes how ridiculous it is to be in love with Lucas Scott. It's always been a hopeless action. How many times has he hurt her? She's lost count. But she's done. He's not going to hurt her anymore. She won't let him. She won't let anybody…because she's _done. _

Life has always been a pool full of disappointment and heartbreak for her. Two dead moms, one absentee father, a lost, gained back, lost, gained, lost, then gained again best friend, a crazy stalker, a brother who abandoned her, and more heartbreak then she can handle. She can't bare to think of how it could get worse, and she doesn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

She stands up and grabs a bottle of vodka from the shelf and makes her way upstairs into the bathroom. She looks in the mirror above the sink. The girl staring back at her is not the face of a girl that she knows. She doesn't know this Peyton. This Peyton looks sickly and miserable. She doesn't want to be miserable. But then again she doesn't want to be a coward. This is taking the easy way out. She tells herself that she has to do this. She wouldn't be able to handle another letdown. She doesn't want to be around anymore. She opens the medicine cabinet and takes out her sleeping pills, and as luck would have it, she had only filled the prescription two days ago. She brings the bottle of vodka and her pills and goes into her room. She places the items on her nightstand and picks up her sketchpad and begins to draw.

Drawing usually makes her feel better. It takes away the pain. But drawing this picture isn't making her feel better. Its reopening the cuts that haven't healed inside her heart, its causing the blood to run out faster from the whole in her heart. But she knows she has to get this out, one…last…picture. When she's done, she's sobbing more than she thought she could. She stares at the picture, the picture of a boy telling a girl he hates her, this girl looking broken and fragile. Underneath this picture she writes a few messages, for she thinks that suicide notes are tacky and cliché. And the last thing Peyton Sawyer wants to be remembered as is cliché.

To Brooke, she writes: _"B.Davis, I love you. Remember that…always. I don't want you to blame yourself over this, nothing of this was you. Promise me that you'll live your life and fall in love and have babies. Good luck with everything that you do, and maybe I'll see you again some day. Thanks for being my best friend._

_P.S- Make sure my dad's okay alright? _

To Haley and Nathan: _Nathan, you've always been a great friend and there for me, remember that you're a good guy and always take care of your family. Take care of Haley for me, okay? Hales, I know you read that part and scoffed. But, really, let Nathan take care of you. When you cry let him be there to hold you. And I don't care, you're finishing that album. At least do it for me…Mia can help you. And I want you guys to tell Jamie that his Aunt Peyton really loved him…_

And finally, to the boy who broke her down: _Lucas, I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough…_

She places this drawing on her nightstand and opens the vodka bottle and takes a sip. It burns her throat on the way down, but the burn feels good, and she wants more. She takes another sip, then opens up the sleeping pill bottle and pops a few in her mouth and washes them down, the liquid burning her throat the whole time. She continues with this process until she can barely keep her eyes open and her hand is holding the bottle with shaky hands. She can slowly feel herself slipping into unconsciousness, and she closes her eyes and drops the vodka bottle to the ground, shattering it to pieces.

A few hours later, Brooke returns to the house simply because Angie needed her rest and she couldn't do anything for her, except watch. Plus, she'd been in her clothes for hours and needed to change. She walks inside and calls Peyton's name. She hears no answer, but she knows that her best friend is there, she saw her car. She walks up the stairs and stops at Peyton's shut door. 

She knocks. No answer. This is strange. Usually Peyton is up all night drawing or listening to music. She grips the handle and turns, opening the door to the sight that she shouldn't have to see.

She hears a scream, and then realizes that it came from her. She races towards Peyton, shakes her, but she does not awake. She feels cold, and Brooke has seen enough movies to know that that's not a good thing. She realizes she's crying as a tear falls onto the comforter. She whips out her cell phone and shakily calls the number to 911, trying to wake Peyton up the whole time. She frantically tells the woman on the other line of this situation, and she notices the empty pill bottle and the glass shards around her feet. She hangs up when an ambulance is promised to come soon, even though she has a feeling that it is too late.

She tears her gaze from Peyton for a minute and notices the picture on the nightstand. She picks it up and looks at it, automatically noticing the girl and guy are supposed to resemble Peyton and Lucas. She reads the final messages from her best friend, and has a sudden rage of fury. No, not fury towards Peyton, fury towards Lucas Scott, the man who caused her best friend this pain, and caused her to disappear from the world forever.

She hears the sirens and she runs outside to greet the ambulance, and she brings the paramedics up to Peyton's room, trying not to have a mental breakdown. The paramedics share a glance and she already knows what the glance means without even having to ask her, they put Peyton on a stretcher and allow Brooke to come in the ambulance with them.

The hospital waiting room always makes Brooke nervous. She hates it. And when she sees the doctor walking her way, she feels as if she's in a movie, and she knows the words he's about to say before he's even five feet from her. That still doesn't stop her from collapsing into his arms when she hears the worst news in the world that she could possibly hear. Her best friend in the world, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, is dead. Dead. Never coming back. Ever.

She calls Haley soon after, and then decides that this is really not the best news to tell over the phone.

"Hello? Brooke?" She can tell she woke Haley up.

"Haley…" Brooke can barely say anything else, she chokes back a sob.

She hears rustling, she knows Haley is sitting up in bed now, and has indeed woken up Nathan as well. "What is it? Are you okay? Is it Angie?"

Brooke shakes her head then realizes Haley can't possibly see this, "No…I…can I come over?"

"Of course you can, Brooke. You don't seem to be in the best shape…do you want Nathan to come pick you up?" You gotta love tutor mom, Brooke thinks.

"No, I'm only a few minutes away…"

"Okay, see you in a bit, be careful Brookie." And with that, the call has ended.

Brooke all but runs out of the hospital, and makes a note to call Peyton's dad so he can get her body from the hospital. She thought makes her shudder and her knees weak. She grabs a cab and directs them to Nathan and Haley's. She looks down and notices she's clutching Peyton's drawing in her hands. Peyton's…FINAL…drawing. She still can't believe any of this is happening as she gets out and knocks on the door, still crying softly.

Nathan opens the door, Haley standing next to him and envelopes her in a hug and guides her over to the couch so she can sit. She looks at them and shakes her head. She shouldn't have to tell them this. This shouldn't have happened. This shouldn't have happened for 60 or so more years.

"Brooke…what is it?"

Brooke tries to talk but can't, a sob is stuck in her throat. She coughs once, twice. "It's Peyton…she's…" she lets out another sob and looks them in the eyes, "She's dead."

Haley's eyes immediately start to glaze over and Nathan, trying to be strong, swallows hard.

"What? How? When?" The questions fall out of Haley's mouth so quickly she can barely hear them.

Brooke nods, "She killed herself…I came home and she was…" she doesn't get the chance to finish because both her and Haley let out heart wrenching sobs.

Brooke looks down at the drawing still clutched in her hand and passes it to Nathan, and as soon as he sees it, his eyes darken.

"I'm going to kill him," He spits. "How could he do that to her? HOW?!" He shouts the last word, and it's a miracle that Jamie is still soundly sleeping.

Brooke just shakes her head. "What are we going to do? How are we going to get by without Peyton? How can she be…gone." She looks at Nathan who has failed at keeping his tears back, and pulls both him and Haley into a hug.

One week later, and she's buried in the ground. Brooke can't believe that its only been a week, for it seems like its been lifetimes. They have all ignored Lucas enough for him to get the hint that he should stay away for awhile, and try not to talk to them. Brooke has had to restrain Nathan from going and pounding him to the ground on numerous occasions. Brooke made a copy of Peyton's final picture and sent one to Lucas in the mail, not ever planning on parting with the original.

Brooke stands here, staring at Peyton's gravestone, and wishes that she could spend five more minutes with her. She hears footsteps behind her and immediately knows who it is. She whips around.

"You get the _hell_ away from here."

He looks at her, a pained expression on his face, "Brooke… she was my friend too…my girlfriend for years…I lo-"

Brooke cuts him off, "No, you don't get to say you loved her! Don't even try you stupid selfish bastard! I believe that the last time you saw her you told her you hated her, so you don't get to play the grieving friend here, as far as I'm concerned, hell, as long as everybody else is concerned, you're the reason she's lying here in this cold ground! She did nothing but good for you and you fucking threw it back in her face and caused her to _kill herself!_ So don't try and make justice for yourself, because you don't deserve ANY." With that, she storms off, leaving Lucas Scott staring at the grave of a girl he used to know.

He immediately flashes back to senior year, during the shooting in the library.

_She looks at him, "It's not glass is it? In my leg…"_

_He stares into her eyes, "No, it's not. It's a bullet, but I'm going to get you out of here…"_

_She smiles weakly, "You're always saving me."_

_He smirks, "Somebody's got to."_

He shakes his head and wipes his eyes as stray tears fall down his face. He couldn't save her this time, in fact he was the reason for this downfall. And he's going to have to live with that his whole life.

The fact that he, Lucas Eugene Scott, broke the only girl that had ever mattered in his life, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer.


End file.
